


** New Paths **

by felandaris



Series: Andromeda Amour [1]
Category: Mass Effect, Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: Angst, Awkward Flirting, Consensual Sex, Cunnilingus, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Smut, Humor, Light Angst, NSFW, Oral Sex, PWP, Rutting, Rydam - Freeform, Shameless Smut, Voice Kink, blowjob, first mass effect fic, intergalactic space dork, liam licks, liams couch, naughty liam, the sex scene we didnt get in the game
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-13
Updated: 2017-04-10
Packaged: 2018-10-17 07:02:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10588863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/felandaris/pseuds/felandaris
Summary: He tastes of almonds- sweet with an appropriate hint of bitterness.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Nerdy_Skirt](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nerdy_Skirt/gifts).



> My first-ever Mass Effect fic is entirely the fault of Bioware for not giving us a sex scene. Though Andromeda isn't my first ME game I'm only dipping my toe in the fandom so I'm not sure how this compares in terms of explicitness or quality. Please be advised that it _is_ quite explicit, because apparently that's what I do. Also, I'm trying to establish the tag _Liam Licks_ as a counterpart to _Cullenlingus_.  
>  All my thanks go to my wonderful friend nerdy_skirt for her patient support and super-sweet flails. You're amazing, eh.

“I don’t know what that means.”

Neither does she. The question doesn’t make sense, nor does the sudden silence. All Sara can fathom right now is a tingle in the pit of her stomach; a warmth rising further up her cheeks with every second she sits on this remarkably comfortable couch, under Liam’s amber stare.

She has no answer for him, but her body does. Leaning forward, she reaches out, throat dry and head spinning. When her fingertips graze warm skin she stills, eyes widening. But shock at herself dissolves into sweet relief when he responds. A broad palm finds the back of her neck. Foreheads touch. Then it’s only a breathless half-second until, _at last_ , their mouths meet.

And, at last, Sara lets go. Her head sinks into supple leather as Liam’s weight knocks her flat, trapping her under muscle, heat and restless energy.

He tastes of almonds, sweet with an appropriate hint of bitterness. His lips are as soft as they look, prying hers open with quick nibs and fluttering pecks. Tongues begin playing, and from deep in Liam’s chest rises a little _ah_ ; barely audible, strained with excitement and full of promise.

So she does it again, licks at his tongue before sucking in that lush bottom lip. She’s rewarded with a throatier _mh_ \- and a testing roll of slim hips. Notes of cinnamon and vanilla beckon her closer as awkward uncertainty blossoms into unashamed need. On their own account her legs hook behind his knees, and they start rutting like a couple of teenagers. Slender fingers comb through her hair, trace her jaw’s contours; the same ones she’s caught fidgeting so often, wondering how they’d feel on her. None of her silly daydreams do his caress justice, the tender awe raising goose bumps all over her skin even through her remaining layers. Sara’s hands aren’t idle, roaming across Liam’s bare torso; tracing the sharp jut of a collarbone, admiring the biceps’ enticing swell and teasing the patch of fluff between defined shoulder blades.

 _Pathfinder, I shall temporarily un-sync._ Sara hums her agreement both with SAM and the nibbles at her neck.

Buttons pop, zips hiss and fabric rustles. Shoes tumble across the floor and socks fly in all directions. Sara isn’t sure who undid Liam’s belt but seizes the opportunity to cup the buttocks she’s snuck all those glances at.

Her world darkens for a blink’s duration before a chill prickles down her arms as her top glides off the sofa.

For the first time since they tossed propriety into open space, they stop moving. Sara half-sits and their foreheads meet again in what could become their little gesture- _in another life maybe_ , as her inner cynic hurries to add. Noses rub and lips touch lazily. Then she reaches behind herself, holding his stare while metal clasps click open.

Liam’s eyes narrow, his pupils darken and his brow knits as he watches her nipples harden under his gaze. “Ryder,” shaky fingers inch up her ribcage, “… _Sara._ ”

The sound of her name, sighed in _that_ accent, pulses between her legs, and she pulls him in again. Their kiss is hungrier now, lips smacking and tongues demanding more. In between quickening breaths and eager gropes Sara notices the prods at her midriff growing rhythmic, _harder_ , and she hums into Liam’s mouth. Whether in response or to himself, he mumbles a hushed _yes_ before planting a trail of feather-light pecks down her neck, stopping below her collarbones.

He lingers, hovers for a small eternity, looking on as though he’s not seen a female bosom in centuries ( _which, to be fair, he hasn’t.)_

Sara’s mouth opens but the wisecrack comes out as a gasp when those scandalously soft lips find her. Just the idea of a touch at first, brushing over an irate peak, deepening when he cups her breasts, squishing them together before he descends on her. Her head lulls back, eyes falling shut as she grasps a handful of hair. Spurred on, Liam groans with his mouth full of her, and she curls into him.

Kett invasions, environmental hazards and the universe’s fate matter less with each clever flick of Liam’s tongue, every eager squeeze of pliant flesh. Pressure and responsibility melt off Sara as her limbs become heavy and a flush rises up her front. She stretches out backwards, relishing the kisses fluttering past her bellybutton.

But a single treacherous word halts the warm current of arousal, deepening the burn on her cheeks as mortification freezes her blood.

“ _Spongebob?_ ”

“I- I,” she splutters, glaring at her colourfully printed briefs, “I don’t usually- Just today…”

“Hush,” he chuckles, smoothing a tousled lock from her forehead, “it’s cute. Besides,” a grin, “it makes unwrapping more fun.”

Lust’s sweet ache returns with the pad of a finger brushing tantalising lines just above her waistband. Sara stretches, strains into his caress, hips and hands and stiff nipples begging him to proceed.

Liam’s tongue flicks across his lip as he watches her tummy quiver with shuddering exhales. His fingers slide under the elastic, and the final layer falls with a quick lift of Sara’s butt.

Much as she dislikes doing it, Sara is glad she kept up her waxing routine when Liam’s mouth drops open.  His Adam’s apple bobs with an audible swallow as wide eyes wander down her smooth mound. Sara grins, shifting her knees apart for a glimpse. Liam curses, sucking in a sharp breath.

“You naughty little thing,” he purrs, leaning in until his voice tickles her ear. “Teasing your crew member like that…” Liam’s voice is thick, as is the bulge rubbing against her leg while his hand wanders southwards. He cups her, wide palm moulding against her sex, watching her arms stretch above her head as she rocks into his touch. Then, without warning, a single finger dips down with a delightfully slurpy noise. Swirling heady juice around her stiffening clit, he coaxes a choked _ah_ from her.

“That’s it, babe” that sly digit continues its devious circles, “that’s it”.

Sarah doesn’t get to process his words, for his lips retreat only to appear right at her apex. Air leaves her lungs on a yelp as he licks up her slit once twice, and she’s clutching hair and leather, toes curling and thighs framing his damnably gorgeous face. She’s close now, but Liam is in no rush, lapping and nibbling; making more of those sounds as he rolls her flavour on his tongue. Time and thought evade her, leaving Sara writhing, floating. Only when his mouth finds her hard bud does she crash, keen, back arching and hands gripping whatever they can. A rush of pleasure surges through her body, gripping her like nothing, no one has in far too long. Somewhere at the edge of her conscious Sara registers a strangled yelp and a bunch of loose hairs in her palm. A few breaths later she’s sagging, melting, possibly whimpering Liam’s name.

Heavy and boneless, she peeks out from under tired lids when now-familiar hands reach to pick her up. Without thinking she hangs on to Liam’s shoulders, and her forehead moulds into the curve of his neck as if she’d done nothing else for years. As he carries her Sara’s legs wrap around his hips, leaving her seated on a hot and hard reminder that they’re far from finished.

Liam’s bed is wide and comfortable, if not as bouncy as the sofa. Not that she gets much of a chance for assessment, for she’s barely sunk into the mattress before he settles atop her again.

Now his kiss tastes salty- her flavour that he’s not shy to share. Sara groans, fingers digging into his back, drawing him closer, urging him; anything to sate her rekindled lust.

She’s soaking the boxers covering that ominous bulge and decides the offending garment must go. Their eyes meet, and immediately Liam’s gaze softens, a flicker of chestnut visible amid the dark of lust-blown pupils. He might have been about to say something but only manages a gasp when Sara’s thighs flex. Liam’s yelp widens her smile as she flips them over, coming to sit just before his crotch.

She pauses to admire the view. Liam’s lips are parted, flicking out when her breasts give the slightest jiggle. Holding eye contact, Sara traces an invisible line down his torso, sliding over muscle and smooth skin; past the dip of his navel. The trail of barely-there fuzz tingles under her finger. Cocking an eyebrow, she lets the waistband of his boxers snap.

Liam’s smile takes on a smug edge, a note of the cockiness she’s always suspected is mostly facade. His abs tighten when his just rear lifts effortlessly and the grey cotton slides off in a fluid motion. It’s Sara’s turn to lick her lips. She knew he was tall, yet she’s impressed. Which doesn’t seem to go unnoticed.

“Like what you see?” comes the chuckle from above the midriff she’s admiring. Again an eyebrow rises as she contemplates. Flashing him a half-look, she closes in, delighting in the hiss she elicits when she swallows him down.

Heady musk fills her senses. Heat pulses in the hand grasping base of his shaft, steel under silken skin. Then she starts moving, and both moan.

Liam’s length tastes of salt and cleanliness, and she can’t bob up and down, snake her tongue around him fast enough. Her thumb and finger just about meet at the root while the crown spans her lips. A hand is rubbing mindless patterns onto her shoulder, and wiry frizz tickles her nose as he begins moving in shallow, feeble thrusts. A few more licks and the bitter flavour dominates, pearling from his tip. She hums then and sucks, hard, wanting, no, _needing_ to feel him come.

But the hand on her shoulder tightens and the hips withdraw, making him plop from her lips. Sara’s brow knits along with her stomach as. She dares to sneak a glance up, only to hear that one dreaded word bearing the rejection she had, _foolishly_ , stopped fearing.

“No.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! If you've got another minute I'd love to know what you think.  
> [Find me, the Dragon Age boys and Liam on Tumblr! ](http://cullenstairshenanigans.tumblr.com)


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